


It Gets Better

by OneSpringEvening



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Jokes, Cigarettes, Comedy, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Humor, KuroTsuki Week, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Tsukki's having a rough time, for now, mature for themes and language, really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25660450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneSpringEvening/pseuds/OneSpringEvening
Summary: Life isn’t a fairy tale. Life doesn’t always go as planned. But sometimes, no matter how hard life tries to fuck you over and make you give in, a certain literature nerd forces his way in and makes everything just a tiny bit better.Slow burn college AU where Kuroo and Tsukishima never met in high school. Come along for the ride. Will add more tags as the story progresses.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 33
Kudos: 75





	1. The New Assistant Librarian

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't going to post this until I got a bit more of it done, but I JUST discovered it's kurotsuki week and that today's prompt fit exactly...so here it is! Will be trying to update this every week or two, but I have a couple written already so will be weekly posts for now~

He let out a soft sigh, glancing at his phone. Ten to midnight. The library would be closing soon, which meant he should probably get going.

A yawn slipped past his lips. Man, he was tired.

His eyes lazily danced over the words in his textbook, familiar yet foggy in his mind. Well, that tends to happen when you try to study while distracted. Ah well. The test wasn’t for another week anyway. He twirled his pencil in his hand absentmindedly, marking the page with a bright sticky note before closing it reluctantly. He had probably avoided home for a long as he could tonight.

Delicate fingers gently smoothed out the notes scattered about from his study session, a sad attempt at preventing further wrinkles to the well-worn sheets often abused on the bumpy walk home as they reclaimed their place his chemistry binder. After his temporary desk was spick and span, he stood up with a soft grunt, automatically sliding in his earbuds as he began the trek home.

The music drowned out his thoughts as he walked through the dimly lit campus, enjoying the peace and quiet such a late hour afforded him. No need to avoid tripping over bustling students loitering about, laughing their asses off about things of which he couldn’t care less, blocking the roads. And most of all, it meant he could smoke in peace without bothering anyone (but more importantly, anyone bothering him).

Slipping a lighter out of his pant pocket and a cig out of his jacket with practiced ease, he sticks the end swiftly into his mouth. With a familiar flick of his fingers, he produced a soft, lonely flame amidst the darkness encroaching upon campus and breathed in deeply, allowing the fumes to calm the anxiety creeping back into the edges of his consciousness.

He knew it was bad for him. He wasn’t stupid. God, he’d had so many people tell him that it was bad for him. But fuck, with everything that had happened, who could blame him on taking up a hobby like this? It could be worse, at the very least.

Now in a suitable mood to face his empty apartment, he began to make the 20-minute trek home, puffing out small clouds of smoke off to the side ever so often.

This had been his routine for some time now. Get home at a late hour, crash alone in his too large bed, get up at 7am, shower, wake up for his classes (in that order), and then study in the library until it closed. The routine brought him comfort. It was reliable. And reliable was what he needed right now.

Yamaguchi was part of that comfort. His friend still texted him every morning to tell him how his day had gone, what he was planning on doing that day, asking whether he had time to get lunch together later, or just to hang out. As reluctant as Tsukishima was to spend time with other human beings these days, he humored his friend with short and curt replies at the very least, or a quiet lunch if he was feeling good that day.

He preferred to spend lunch alone on most days, smoking and enjoying the peace and quiet behind one of the less frequented buildings.

This routine was fine. He was fine.

He didn’t need anyone to interrupt it.

But the universe seemed to truly hate him, as he got the exact opposite of his wish just one week later.

* * *

He sat down with a soft grunt once in the library, claiming his unofficial personal desk in the corner. He had just come out from his exam, now ready for a quick nap before resuming studying for the next. As his routine went. The library was usually a quiet place for him to study, focus his thoughts, nap the day away, and avoid interacting with other people.

Usually.

As he lay his weary head to rest, loud, rambunctious laughter from somewhere near the entrance of the library reverberated through the walls, crawling through the walls to somehow reach his desk despite the distance. He let out a disgruntled noise, but didn’t let that sway him from his plans.

That is, until the laughter turned to chatter and grew closer. Weren’t people supposed to be quiet in the library? Where was the librarian to shush these assholes?

He reluctantly lifted his head from the desk, eyes scanning the shelves as he looked for the culprit preventing him from taking his nap. It wasn’t long until two large figures came into view. Both looked like troublemakers, one with some ridiculously _loud_ looking hair to match his loud voice, and another with hair that looked like he had run into a typhoon on the way in. What a ridiculous sight. And they were still talking.

“Shh!” He supplied in their direction, hoping it was loud enough to be heard by the duo. Luckily, it was.

Both heads snapped in his direction immediately, words dying in both of their throats. The one with dyed hair grinned at him like he had done nothing wrong, and actually _waved_ , but the raven-haired man at least had the decency to look sheepish as he rubbed his neck, mouthing what appeared to be an apology. 

Not entirely satisfied, but enough to resume his nap, he dropped his head, turning it in the other direction, pointedly turning away from both men (students? Not that he cared.) Hopefully they would take the hint and let him nap in peace.

After waking up from his hard-earned rest, he slowly lifted his head, regaining his senses one at a time. Still half asleep, the image of the loud duo flashed in his mind. Neither were anywhere to be seen anymore. At least that meant he could study in peace.

Once satisfied with his state of awaked-ness, he arched his back into a stretch, allowing a yawn to split his lips. Time to study.

He was only mildly surprised to spot the raven-haired man rearranging some shelves later that evening, having decided that neither he nor his friend had looked like students. 

He was, however, very unpleasantly surprised when said man decided to engage in conversation with him upon catching his eye.

“Hey!”

“It’s a library. You’re supposed to be quiet,” came his whispered, irritated reply. It didn’t seem to bother the other man.

“You’re the only one still here,” he had laughed. A weird feeling twisted inside of Tsukishima at the sound.

“Well, I want it to be quiet. Where’s the librarian?” He sighed as he raised his voice to his usual speaking volume, hoping the third party could get this man away from him.

“You’re looking at him!” He held a hand out, pointing at himself with his thumb proudly. Tsukishima stared incredulously for a few moments, taking in the information. Well, that explained the bold, red color of the shirt he wore. If the color of a shirt could be equated to a noise level, his would be screaming. 

Eventually, he spoke again.

“How unfortunate. Leave me alone then.” As he spoke, he picked up his pencil and pulled out some notes, making a point of looking focused on them. After a few more seconds of staring at him, looking like he still had something to say with his mouth agape (which almost had Tsukishima cracking a smirk, but he managed to remain composed), the man retreated, finally allowing him to relax. One grumbled insult later, he put the conversation out of his mind, hunkering down to do what he had come to do in the first place.

And if anyone asked whether he had subconsciously glanced around for the bird’s nest of hair once he headed out, exhaling a heavy cloud of smoke, he would go on to vehemently deny it.

* * *

His phone dinged softly on his bedside table next to his glasses, indicating an incoming text. Rubbing the damp towel hanging around his neck against his hair in one last attempt to catch the remaining, stubborn droplets of water, he picked the device up with one hand, flicking it open with his thumb. The text was from Yamaguchi, as usual. The usual complaining about tests and assignments, clubs, and gushing about some guy he’d met recently, followed by the usual questions about hanging out.

His fingers hovered over the letter n for a moment, ready to reject the invitation as he did most days. He stared at the digital keyboard for a few minutes like that, internally debating the choice he was about to make. Before he could regret his decision, he quickly typed a text and sent it off.

 **[Tsukishima Kei] (8:22)** I’m free at 11 _._

The reply was almost immediate.

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **]** **(8:22)** Great! Usual spot?

 **[Tsukishima Kei]** **(8:23)** Ya.

He dropped his phone on his bed after typing the last letters out, letting out a soft sigh. His gaze wandered over to the other, empty bedside table. Dust had gathered on the lamp sitting there, having gone unused since... He should do some spring cleaning soon.

He wasn’t really one to talk about himself. Many people tried to pry it out of him regardless, constantly bothering him with questions, nudging him to attempt to break the icy male’s cool demeanor. Yamaguchi was one of the few who allowed him his peace, never pushing him too far, and always willing to fill the silence when Tsukishima wasn’t in the mood to talk. Said man was currently rambling about the latest surprise pop quiz his physics professor had given out.

“Can you believe it? A surprise quiz! I’m surprised that’s even legal in university,” the freckled boy groaned, gesturing dramatically with his arms. Tsukishima hummed in acknowledgement, only somewhat listening. He felt questioning eyes on him as he poked at his food, picking apart the salad in front of him. His friend was waiting for him to say something, he knew. But he also knew that no amount of prodding would make him speak his mind. He would speak when he was ready.

“That’s what you get for not keeping up,” he replied instead, popping a slice of strawberry from the salad in his mouth.

“Most people in college don’t review _every day_ ,” his friend complained again, throwing his hands up exasperatedly. He stayed like that for a few seconds, staring at the food in front of the blond. “Also, why do you even buy salads if all you do is eat the strawberries?” Tsukishima glanced up from picking out another slice of the berry.

“I eat the rest of it. … Sometimes.” He shrugged, savoring the sweet taste of the fruit in his mouth. Seeing that he wasn’t going to divulge anything, his friend continued rambling about nothing of substance, leaving the blond to his thoughts again. Staring at the strawberries, he was suddenly reminded of the bright red shirt he had seen yesterday.

“Do we have a new librarian?” he asked suddenly, interrupting Yamaguchi mid-sentence. His friend blinked, nonplussed by the interruption. His brain seemed to catch up pretty quickly as he managed to reply less than a second later.

“I do think I saw them mentioning something like that on the school website,” his friend pondered, pulling out his phone to confirm his thoughts. “Ah ya, right here. New assistant librarian starting this week. Kuroo Tetsurou. Why are you asking?”

Tsukishima frowned at his salad, remembering the interruption yesterday.

“Asshole was being loud in the library. I was trying to nap.” He grunted, pushing aside the leafy greens. He glanced over at his friend, scowling when he noticed the way he was staring intently at him, with something akin to a smirk curling his lips. “What?”

“Nothing. You just- it’s been a while since I’ve seen some emotion on your face. That’s all,” his friend smiled softly at him, setting his phone down. “I’m glad,” he added quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear.

He chose to ignore him in favor of picking out the last slice of strawberry from his salad.

* * *

The rest of the week went by rather uneventfully, as it usually did. The assistant librarian didn’t bother him again during his study hours.

Friday evening, as he was stepping outside, cigarette and lighter in hand, a familiar voice called out from behind him.

“It’d be a shame to lose someone like you to lung cancer.” He turned his head reluctantly, already recognizing the voice as the same one that had interrupted his nap earlier that week.

“It’s none of your concern.” He replied coolly, taking a deep drag of his cigarette. He exhaled lazily, staring back at the other man with calculating eyes, lips stretched thin in annoyance.

“I care about anyone that cares about books!” The other man exclaimed as he came to a stop in front of him, wearing what appeared to be a tracksuit with a loose t-shirt underneath. He had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, filled with what Tsukishima assumed to be either books, or gym equipment. Or both.

“Leave me alone,” he repeated his words from a few days ago, feeling an oncoming headache. It was late, he was tired, and there was a can of beer waiting for him in his fridge. He turned his head slightly as he took another drag from his cig, taking his time in breathing out a soft ring of smoke in a direction away from the other man. He despised social interaction, but that didn’t automatically make him rude.

“What if I don’t want to?” Came his cheeky reply as Kuroo shifted to jut his hip out, free hand on his waist, completing the cocky look. He was really pushing his personal bubble, Tsukishima noted, eyes sharp as they swept over the distance (or lack thereof) between them. The other man was a bit shorter than him, although not by much. That irritating personality of his that kept intruding on his life definitely made him appear larger than he was.

“What do you want then?” He retorted, waving the cigarette in his direction. A spark of satisfaction pushed away the twinge of guilt in his chest at exposing the man to his secondhand smoke when that dumb grin wavered for just a second, before returning full force.

“Your name?” His eyes narrowed at the reply, wondering what on earth had possessed this man to ask him this at midnight o’ five in the middle of the night, on an empty campus. He stared at him sharply, taking the opportunity to sweep his gaze over him in a once over, pausing for a moment on the way his jacket fell off his shoulders. Even through the layers of fabric, he could tell that he was, in no uncertain terms, quite toned under those clothes.

“No.” He drawled as he turned away, ready for the short trek home. He hadn’t really expected it to be enough to deter Kuroo, and as expected, he was correct in his assumptions, as the other man took a step forward instead, apparently ready to follow him if he began walking.

“Mine’s Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou.” He glanced back over his shoulder, biting back a ‘I already know that’ comment. Why was he so intent on talking to him? He had already denied his request. 

“Will you leave me alone if I tell you?” he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice, tapping softly on his cigarette to clean off the spent end.

“Yes!”

He took a moment to weigh the pros and cons in his mind, deciding that it wouldn’t be difficult for the raven-haired man to find his name if he just glanced through the system. He was the assistant at the library, after all. So, he wouldn’t lose much by telling him here. And, he would be rid of him.

“Tsukishima.” He tossed over his shoulder before resuming his trek home, ignoring the delighted laugh ringing out behind him.

“I’ll see you Monday, Tsukishima!” 

“Mmm.”


	2. Quips in the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, I see you like books,” he remarked, nodding at the novel peeking out of Tsukishima’s plain, grey backpack. Tsukishima had been somewhat impressed with his perceptiveness, but very irritated at the attention being drawn upon him once again.
> 
> Instead of answering, he chose to stay quiet, opening his well-worn notebook.
> 
> Instead of leaving, the raven-haired man decided to sit down across from him, legs splayed on either side of his chair of choice, arms folded on the backrest.

If there were one type of person Tsukishima would say he had grown up avoiding, it was Kuroo’s type. The extroverted, always happy to help, happy-go-lucky, arrogant type. He had done such a good job so far, outside of some members on his high school volleyball team that he kept up with, who were undeniably, incorrigibly loud (and whom he only initially put up with for the sake of the rest of the team, but had somehow grown to reluctantly like as acquaintances after their time together on the court). He hadn’t made many (see: any) friends in university, so there wasn’t a problem there. It wasn’t as if he’d gone out looking for friends either. So why, _why_ did he suddenly find himself the object of interest of one exact such personality?

He didn’t find himself particularly interesting. Sure, he was smart and decent at volleyball, but that didn’t make him interesting to talk to. And yet, Kuroo didn’t seem to feel that way. When the assistant librarian spotted him again Monday morning, he immediately wandered over whilst waving, somehow avoiding running into a computer cart and two book carts at hip length in the process. If Tsukishima hadn't been annoyed at him, he may have been impressed by the show of dexterity. 

_Just like a kid,_ Tsukishima had thought, watching the man walk over to his desk, hair just as messy as the last time he’d seen him. Before he’d even been able to open his mouth to tell him to go away, Kuroo spoke. To his credit, it was at least an appropriate volume for the library this time.

“So, I see you like books,” he remarked, nodding at the novel peeking out of Tsukishima’s plain, grey backpack. He had been somewhat impressed with his perceptiveness, but very irritated at the attention being drawn upon him once again.

Instead of answering, he chose to stay quiet, opening his well-worn notebook.

Instead of leaving, the raven-haired man decided to sit down across from him, legs splayed on either side of his chair of choice, arms folded on the backrest.

“You know, you must be a library book, because I can’t stop checking you out.” Without looking up from his notes, Tsukishima replied easily:

“Did you notice that I’m a best seller? Because I’m currently unavailable.” The quick reply had Kuroo blinking in surprise, staring at him for a few seconds before opening his mouth again.

“Go out for coffee with me.” At least he was straightforward this time. Regardless, it wouldn’t change his answer.

“No thanks.”

“Tea.”

“Still no.”

“Please?”

Tsukishima sighed, looking up from his notes.

“I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

Kuroo shrugged, smiling easily at him as he rests his chin on his arms.

“Just friends then?”

“You don’t make friends just by asking.”

“So I’ll take that as a yes~”

“Go away.”

And just like that, Kuroo had begun inviting himself over to Tsukishima’s desk to chat almost every time he came by. Most of the time, it was only to say a few words of greeting, talk at him about his new pet (which Tsukishima couldn’t deny peaked at least some of his interest: he did love cats regardless of their owners), or to invite him for coffee again (which he continuously declined). Tsukishima noted that the man didn’t work every day. He seemed to only be there from Monday to Wednesdays. He wondered faintly why he had been at school last Friday night.

* * *

“Tsukki~” At least he had the decency to be quiet now. Tsukishima sighed as he set his backpack down on the desk he had just claimed, turning around to see a certain assistant librarian heading his way.

“Don’t call me that.” He spoke quietly as to not disturb the others, but allowed an edge to slip into his voice, hoping Kuroo would catch on and just leave him alone. Of course, it didn’t work.

“We just got a shipment of that series you like to read. I thought you’d want to know.” His protest went unacknowledged as the raven-haired man approached, standing (too) close to him, one hand leaning against his desk as he spoke. Tsukishima paused for a moment to take in his words, his neutral expression broken by a frown as he furrowed his brows.

“Why do you know what series I like to read? Are you stalking me?” That earned him a laugh (much to his annoyance) that was quickly cut off as Kuroo remembered to keep his voice down. He shook his head, removing the hand he’d been holding behind his back to reveal the newest book in a series Tsukishima was following, holding it out to him.

“I saw you reading it the other day. Your book had a lot of creases and folds in it, like you’d read it a lot of times. So, I figured you liked it. You don’t need to return it; consider it my treat.” There was that smug grin again. Tsukishima reluctantly grabbed the book, not missing the way their fingers brushed.

“So, you were watching me. Creep.” He grumbled, setting it down on the desk as he settled himself in the desk chair. Kuroo simply laughed again, quieter this time, sending weird sparks up his spine. Maybe he needed more sleep.

“Well I’ll leave you to your studying, Tsukki.” He gave a small wave, and like that, he was gone again.

Tsukishima stared after him for a few seconds, then looked back down at the book in his hands. What an irritating guy.

* * *

“I don’t understand how you did it, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi sighed one Friday, playing with the straw in his juice box. “I’m this close to dropping that class. The prof just rambles on and on – I don’t even know what I’m learning here!” he complained, shaking his head. It was late September now, and the first round of exams were coming up soon. Tsukishima wasn’t particularly worried about his classes; his constant studying kept him up to date with everything easily enough. Unfortunately for his freckled friend, he didn’t seem to be in the same situation.

He hummed in response, taking a sip from his milkshake.

“I can help you study. It’s easy if you understand the logic behind it all. I’ll come over after classes today,” he shrugged slightly, lifting a finger to readjust his glasses. His friend did a double take at that, looking at him with owlishly wide eyes. Tsukishima could see the twenty questions Yamaguchi wanted to subject him to flash through his eyes, and he wasn’t a stranger to the reason behind it.

It’d been quite some time since he’d gone over to Yamaguchi’s place. Or, well, anyone’s place that wasn’t his own. He wasn’t very comfortable leaving his own apartment nowadays, even if only to visit his best friend’s apartment. His gaze dropped down his hands holding the milkshake.

His fingers absentmindedly traced an old bruise on his wrist. They had long since faded, but he still felt a pang of phantom pain every now and then.

Man, he needed a smoke.

“- erent.” He lifted his head, realizing Yamaguchi had been talking while he zoned out.

“What did you say?”

“I said, you seem different recently. More relaxed. Wonder why.” His friend repeated easily, unfazed by his question. It hadn’t been the first time Tsukishima had gone off into his own world, and it wouldn’t be the last. The blonde student was thankful for it. He was sure Tamaguchi had noticed the shift in his expression but chose to ignore it. Tsukishima really didn’t deserve this good of a friend.

He turned the words over in his mind, pondering the question carefully. Different? Nothing particular came to mind. The only thing that had changed in the past few weeks was…

 _Kuroo_ , supplied his brain.

He quickly shoved the thought away.

“Who knows,” he replied instead, relaxing his expression back into a neutral one. “So, studying today? My last class is at two.”

“Oh, ya! I end at one. I’ll wait for you at the bus stop?”

Tsukishima nodded. His best friend lived a bit further away from campus, so they had to take the bus to get there. He didn’t mind the ride. It was usually quiet on Fridays, filled with tired students just wanting to go home.

“Great! I actually gotta run now, so I’ll see you later!” His friend hurriedly grabbed his things, tossing the empty juice box into the recycling. “Also – whatever it is that’s going on, I’m happy for you. You can talk to me whenever, remember that.” He added the last part in a quieter tone, expression softening as he looked him in the eye. And then he was off, looking at his phone and cursing under his breath as he realized his class was starting soon. Tsukishima watched his back for a moment, then followed suit, tossing his empty drink away. Time to go back to the library until his next class started.

It wasn’t until later, sprawled out at Yamaguchi’s apartment, notes scattered about, and one cigarette in his system, that he felt comfortable enough to bring up the subject that had been nagging him.

“That Kuroo guy keeps bothering me at the library,” he groaned, flicking through one of Yamaguchi’s old assignments. “Here, you forgot the take the angle into account. Messed up your calculation.” He pointed at one of the mistakes on the papers, holding it out so that his olive-haired friend could see. He could see Yamaguchi holding back excitement in the tenseness in his shoulders at the mention of another human being interacting with him. Although, even he couldn’t deny how shocking the development was. He hadn’t even talked to anyone outside of Yamaguchi in the last few months.

“I’m surprised you’re humoring him. You usually don’t even look twice at that kind of person,” he laughed, taking the assignment from him to scan over the question. He had a handle on the librarian’s personality after seeing him a few times outside the newer buildings, chatting away with another man that Kuroo had called Bokuto, and he had definitely seen enough to know that he wasn’t the kind of person that usually got along with Tsukishima. “D’oh, dumb mistake,” he tsk’d to himself, frowning at his paper.

“I’m not,” the blond man frowned, looking up at the ceiling. “I keep ignoring him, but he keeps coming by and chatting, going on and on about wanting to know more about me.” _And he’s actually succeeding._ He stared at one particular dark speck on the white surface, remembering the novel still sitting in his backpack. Yamaguchi hummed in response, waiting patiently for him to finish his thought.

“… He asked me out.”

His friend blinked, snapping his head away from the paper to stare at him. Tsukishima kept his gaze on the ceiling, letting out an irritated huff.

“I said no, obviously.” His friend seemed to relax at that, though Tsukishima flicked his gaze down fast enough to catch a glint of disappointment in his eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

“Not even considering him for a one night stand? He _is_ pretty hot.” Yamaguchi had gone back to looking at the paper, but Tsukishima could tell that he wasn’t paying any attention to it. His friend was one of the few people who knew that he was gay (although anyone with half a brain would have been able to tell that he was as straight as a crazy straw) and had supported him ever since he’d come out to him back in high school.

He thought back to those muscles he had seen under that tracksuit. That sharp collarbone. That adam’s apple bobbing as he talked. That ridiculous, untamable hair that somehow managed to look good. Those sharp eyes analyzing his every move, that cat like grin painting his features, those sharp canines peeking out.

Undeniably attractive.

But as soon as his mind wandered to taking the librarian home, an all too familiar face flashed in his mind. He inhaled sharply, inwardly cursing himself for bringing up the memory again. Fuck, he still wasn’t over it.

“Not my type,” he dismissed easily as he swallowed down his internal crisis, picking up another assignment in the hopes of changing the subject. “Wow, you really fucked this one up,” he snickered, shoving the assignment in Tamaguchi’s face with the big fat 20 circled on it. His friend yelped, quickly grabbing the paper from him as he whined about how he had been busy that week, didn’t have time to review, was dealing with a cold, etc etc. Subject successfully changed.

Neither of them mentioned Kuroo again that day.

* * *

Monday morning, at the usual time, Kuroo showed up again.

 _New gym gear,_ Tsukishima noted, eyes flicking over the grey track pants completed by a plain black tee. He usually wore the same track outfit every day, so it was surprising to see in something different. His tendency to overthink was the reason for the observation; it was most definitely not because he was actually warming up to the guy. Although, he’d blame that on the overexposure if asked. How could you not become, at the very least, used to a guy when he insisted on chatting at least three times a week?

“Hey, Tsukishima~” He bit back a smirk of satisfaction upon finally hearing his full name from his mouth. “Look at these pictures of Shiro!” The other man grinned as he ran over, holding out his phone. His gaze drifted to the phone being shoved in his face, humming at the image of the soft, black kitten on the screen.

“Shiro?” Tsukishima echoed, raising his eyebrows as he glanced up at the other man. He didn’t usually reply, but considering he wasn’t that busy that day, and that he had a soft spot in his heart for cats, he would make an exception this time.

“It felt weird having a cat with a name so close to my own,” Kuroo barked out a laugh, turning his phone away to swipe to the next picture, before showing the student again. It showed Shiro stretching this time, her mouth stretched into a big yawn. “Besides, I like the irony.”

Tsukishima chose to stare at the kitten instead of replying, eyes softening behind his thick lens at the sight. It’d been a while since he’d owned a cat. His last one had been a family pet, and he hadn’t wanted to subject the poor thing to the neglect he was sure to endure, had he had to live with him while he focused on his studies.

“Whoa, is that a smile?” Kuroo’s grin stretched wider as he leaned closer, lowering his phone to get a better look at the blond man. Tsukishima’s expression immediately hardened into his usual frown again, and he moved himself back, re-establishing an appropriate distance between them.

“Go away,” he immediately replied, pulling out his notebook to signal the end of the conversation. The raven-haired man merely laughed, putting his phone away.

“I’ll crack you eventually, Tsukki,” he whispered before sauntering away, leaving Tsukishima feeling weird and irritated. He really hated the effect the assistant librarian had on him.

* * *

Late Tuesday afternoon, he came by again. Tsukishima wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten himself into this situation. When had he volunteered as Kuroo’s therapist? He certainly didn’t remember doing so.

“Man, I really should work on my thesis. But Shiro is just so adorably distracting, you know?” The other man sighed, shaking his head dramatically. “I just can’t focus when she’s hopping around, sitting down on my keyboard, pawing at my hand with those adorable little paws of hers.” He looked like a lovestruck teenager with the way he talked about his cat. Tsukishima glanced up from his novel (no, not the one Kuroo had given him), looking utterly bored and done with this conversation.

“Don’t you have friends that you can complain to? You barely know me.” He lowered his gaze again, going back to reading. Or attempting to, at the very least. “Like that owl.” Kuroo was suddenly staring at him with those calculating eyes of his, looking way too amused by Tsukishima’s offhand comment.

“Ah-ah-ah? Were you spying on me, Tsukki?” Kuroo teased, that damn grin stretching across his face again as he leaned in closer, invading the space over Tsukishima’s half of the table. “That’s Bokuto! He’s one of the other Masters’ students in the literature department. Ah, he studies historical literature though. You wouldn’t think it, but that guy’s actually super smart!” he laughed, taking on a warmer tone as he spoke about his best friend. “He’s currently busy trying to catch the attention of one the TAs in the physics department. Helping him correct tests or something like that. He’s too busy to chat!” he whined, flopping his entire upper body onto Tsukishima’s desk, much to the disdain of the younger man. “So, I only have you left, Tsukki.”

“Actually,” he leaned back further, refusing to allow the crow’s nest of hair to get too close to him. He had a strange desire to run his fingers through it for some reason. “You don’t have me either. We’re not friends, and stop calling me that,” he noted sharply, shoving the desk forward just far enough to make Kuroo grab at his stomach with a yelp, moving back.

“Ow!” The raven-haired man _yelped_ , holding his stomach like he’d just been dealt a death blow. It wasn’t very convincing, given the humor dotting his honey brown irises. He seemed to be ecstatic over Tsukishima’s cold treatment, much to the exasperation of the latter. 

“You’re fine,” Tsukishima dismissed, eyes stubbornly remaining glued to his book.

“I can’t believe I’m being ignored in favor of a book. Better be a good book.” Kuroo pouted, actually _pouted_ , resting his chin on his crossed arms as he stared at the cover of the novel. “What’s it about, anyway?”

“An assistant librarian talking to a student, actually. I’m just getting to the good part.” Tsukishima replied calmly, flipping to the next page. Kuroo perked up at the response, straightening up in his chair.

“Oh ya? Is it the part where the student goes out for coffee with the hot assistant librarian?”

“No, it’s the part where the assistant librarian goes back to doing his job and leaves the student alone.” The raven-haired man visibly deflates, going back to pouting on Tsukishima’s desk.

“Not a date. Just coffee. My treat.” He tries again, flashing that cat like grin of his at the student. “Just as friends!”

Despite himself, Tsukishima doesn’t immediately reject him. Would he really say no to free coffee?

No. No he wouldn’t.

“… Fine,” he sighs, glancing at Kuroo over the rims of his glasses. “Shut up so I can read my book, and I’ll go for coffee with you.”

The librarian jumped out of his seat, eyes sparkling. He looked like he wanted to shout out celebration, but something was stopping him. Tsukishima was surprised, but it was not unwelcome. Whether it was because he didn’t want the student to change his mind, or because he actually knew that the blonde man didn’t like loud noises, Tsukishima appreciated it. Instead of jumping up in celebration, he sat himself back down, beaming at his desk mate.

“So, what’s the book really about?” he asked hesitantly after a moment, hoping the quieter tone would encourage an answer from the blond student.

“You, shutting up,” Tsukishima repeated, eyes once again on his book. Thankfully, Kuroo stayed quiet this time, choosing to watch him read quietly instead, until he had to get back to doing whatever his job was.

Readjusting his glasses, Tsukishima watched him go. 

He definitely didn’t flip back a chapter or two after he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and likes feed my muse~


	3. The Not-Date Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “… You better give me all the details after your coffee date.”
> 
> “It’s not a date.”
> 
> “It is so a date.”
> 
> “Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the new chapter! New posts every Saturday~

# Chapter 3: A Not-Date Date

Wednesday morning, he doesn’t wake up to the sound of his alarm. Instead, it’s the insistent dings coming from his phone that make him smack his hand down on his bedside table, a sleepy attempt to find his phone.

 _Fuck me for forgetting to turn my sound off_ , he groaned inwardly, slowly opening one eye to guide his hand to the device. Tsukishima may be a morning person, but he was not a morning person when woken earlier than expected. He had stayed up too long the previous night, pacing in his living room as he’d thought about the not-coffee-date coffee date he had agreed to, and what the fuck he should do next. In the end, he had decided that Yamaguchi could offer more insight than his anxiety ridden brain and had texted him the update at three in the morning. The action had provided his mind running in overdrive enough of a respite for him to crash afterwards, but he knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as ignoring the fact the next day.

He slowly dragged his phone onto his bed, squinting at the messages on his screen.

They were all from Tamaguchi.

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:28)** DatEEE??

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:28)** IM SO EXCIEDDD

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:28)** WHEN IS IT OMG

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:28)** I HAVECLASSS RN BT

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:29)** TEL M ABOUT IT LATER!!!

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:29)** I KNOWW YOU’REFREE AFTER 10

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:29)** COMR OVER

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:29)** YOU CANT REFUSE I STILL NEED HELP WITH STYDYING 

**[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (7:29)** My mom also brght over strab shortcake!

His tired brain stared at the messages for a few solid moments before he could decode the excitement in his friend’s messages. After three failed attempts to formulate a reply, he gave up on the task in favor of taking a shower. Those always helped him wake up.

In his drowsy stupor, he didn’t even realize he’d rolled onto the other side of the bed. Upon having the realization, he stiffened, staring at the blurry ceiling as he lay there, inspecting the surface for blemishes. Avoiding sleeping on this side brought him comfort. He could pretend none of it had ever happened. Rolling over and failing to bump into another warm body was too strong of a reminder.

Fuck.

He breathed in deeply, remembering the times Tamaguchi had helped him through his panic attacks. He wasn’t going to have a panic attack at eight in the morning. _Not again._

With sheer determination, he shoved himself out of that mindset – and out of bed, almost slamming his body into his closet. _It was your fault_ , his internal voice spat, and he found himself fighting his own head as he dragged himself to the bathroom. Logically, he knew that it was wrong, that he shouldn’t be so hung up over it, and yet, his stupid brain just couldn’t get over it.

He numbly stripped his shirt and underwear off as he stepped into his shower and turned the cold water on full blast. A gasp escaped his body at the sudden change in temperature.

At least it gave him enough of a jolt to retreat to his safe headspace, away from the regret, and the memories.

After some serious introspection and a few new layers added to his mental wall, he returned to his bedroom with a clear head and a towel around his waist. He swiftly walked over to grab his phone, lifting it up to his face so that he didn’t have to squint to type his reply.

 **[Tsukishima Kei** **] (7:31)** I'll see you at the bus stop.

* * *

He could practically see the intensity of Yamaguchi’s stare right then. Of course, he had no one to blame but himself. He’d stayed quiet the entire way from the bus station to the walk to his place, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He had ended up pulling out a smoke on their walk back, despite the disapproving look Yamaguchi shot him. He knew his friend didn’t approve of his new habit, so while he usually avoided smoking around him, amidst his crisis, the logical part of his brain wasn’t strong enough to drown out his desire for some stress relief.

But now, sitting comfortably next to Yamaguchi on the latter’s bed, he couldn’t stay quiet any further.

“It’s not a date,” he started, staring at a dot on the wall across from them. There sure were a lot of stray dots on walls in this apartment. His friend snorted at the denial but didn’t argue.

“What is it then?” he asked instead, raising his eyebrows disbelievingly.

“… He just offered me free coffee. Would you deny free coffee?” Tsukishima muttered, fiddling with his fingers. Nervous habit of his.

“No, I wouldn’t. But I also wouldn’t have refused a date with a hot dude,” his freckled friend retorted, shoving his elbow teasingly into his side. Tsukishima grunted in response.

They sat in a thick silence for a few minutes as Yamaguchi allowed him to gather his thoughts. He could feel that there was more yet to be said, but he didn’t want to interrupt, no matter how curious he was.

“… I can’t stop thinking about him.” Tsukishima spoke quietly, barely a murmur under his breath. “Even just being on his side of the bed. I almost panicked this morning,” he laughed dryly, without a hint of humor in his voice. His friend’s gaze softened at his side, and he felt arms sliding around his middle to hug him tightly.

“It wasn’t your fault, Tsukki.”

“If I had-“

“No. You're not responsible for what he did. It was his fault, not yours, Kei.”

He knew that. Fuck, he knew that.

Why couldn’t he accept it?

He rested his hand on the arm around his body, a quiet gesture of thanks.

“… So, studying,” he finally said, feeling the arms around his body tighten for a second before going slack. “How far along are you?” The bed dipped under Yamaguchi’s weight as he shifted to grab his notes.

“… Not very?” Came the sheepish reply, papers and books shoved onto the space in front of them.

“And how long until the exam?”

“Like…a week?”

“…”

“…”

“Better get started.”

“… You better give me all the details after your coffee date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“It is so a date.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

* * *

Tsukishima spent the rest of the day at Yamaguchi’s apartment, attempting to help his poor befreckled friend catch up on his studying. They managed to get through a good portion of it until the former had to go, given his early class the next day. With a grunted promise to keep his friend updated on the not-date date, he was off.

When he arrived at the library later Thursday morning, he faintly remembered that Kuroo didn’t work past Wednesdays during the week. He usually didn’t show up during those days, and while Tsukishima usually appreciated the silence, today, it made him restless. Was the guy really patient enough to wait five days until talking to him again? They hadn’t exchanged numbers or any other method of communicating outside of in-person chats.

He got his answer when he spotted black hair (somehow messier than usual) peeking out from behind one of the bookshelves and sauntering its way over to his seat.

“Tsukishima~” He cooed with that usual grin of his on his face, sporting something other than his usual tracksuit for once.

“What’s with the outfit?” The student looked up at him in mild surprise, noting the formal outfit fitted to his figure. He usually looked like he was going to the gym, so this was different.

“Oh, I’m going to a panel after this. Like it?” His grin got impossibly wider as he turned around, puffing out his chest with his hands on his hips. Tsukishima allowed himself a quick glance, but replied with nothing more than a noncommittal hum.

Kuroo certainly cleaned up nice. Although, that ridiculous hair of his was still the same as always.

Said man only laughed in response, relaxing his posture.

“So, about that coffee. Are you free tomorrow?” Tsukishima briefly thought about the time blocks of his schedule before replying.

“After three.”

“Great! I know the perfect place. It’s just a bit away from campus though, so we’d have to walk a bit. You alright with that?”

“Sure,” Tsukishima shrugged in response.

“Perfect. Let’s meet outside the library and we can walk there together.” There was that grin again. Normal Tsukishima would have refused, given the fact that a walk meant that there would be an extended opportunity for conversation with no escape. But then again, normal Tsukishima also wouldn’t have said yes to this not-date date in the first place.

“Fine,” he agreed, forcing his gaze away from the way Kuroo’s vest hugged his waist oh so very perfectly. He had a weird urge to rip it off him.

He quickly pushed the thought away.

Kuroo didn’t seem to notice his internal crisis, pulling out his phone instead.

“Would you mind giving me your number? Just in case either of us is late, or an emergency comes up, or something.” The usually confident man almost sounded hesitant at the question. Although Tsukishima was reluctant, he could see his point. He would feel a bit bad if he suddenly had to cancel and didn’t have any way of telling the other man.

Only a bit, though.

Instead of replying, he motioned for Kuroo to pass him his phone. The other man did so happily, and Tsukishima quickly typed out a text to himself. His phone vibrated in his pocket as he hit send.

“Hell yes, Tsukki’s number!” The librarian was looking at his phone after Tsukishima handed it back to him like it was a golden egg.

 _Probably had this planned all along_ , Tsukishima mused. Yet, somehow, he couldn’t get himself to be angry. Before he had a chance to decide on a reply, Kuroo was suddenly frowning at his phone.

“Ah shit, the event starts soon. Anyways, I’ll text you!” With a quick wave and a wave, Kuroo was off. Tsukishima nodded him off. As he turned to look back at his book, his phone vibrated again. He retrieved it from his pocket to check the notification.

 **[1023334444] (5:19)** see u tmrw!! ;) _  
  
_Why was he already regretting this? And he most definitely did regret giving Kuroo Tetsurou his number. He most definitely was not sitting in the library, smiling at his phone like some lovestruck fool.

 **[Tsukishima Kei] (5:21)** Don’t be late.  
  


* * *

Tsukishima fidgeted with the phone in his hand, opening and closing apps repeatedly. Five minutes until he was supposed to meet Kuroo. He glanced up from his phone, attempting to look casual as he scanned the area for the assistant librarian, just in case he had decided to come early to catch him by surprise.

He huffed out a frustrated noise at himself, frowning. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t like the damn thing was a date. It’d been a while since he’d gone anywhere with anyone that wasn’t Yamaguchi, so that had to be it. He opened his texts again, looking at the last message he had received from Kuroo.

 **[Typhoon Hair (Kuroo)] (2:54)** b there soon!

It was just coffee, he kept reminding himself. It wasn’t anything more than that. There was nothing to be afraid of, right? The guy had seemed nice enough, even though he’d gotten up in Tsukishima’s space more than once without explicit permission. He had been pushy, but not so much so that he was making Kei uncomfortable at any point. _It’ll be good to get out of your apartment too,_ his internal voice (that sounded an awful lot like Yamaguchi) reminded him. Despite the self-reassurance, there was still a voice inside him screaming at him to go home, that it would just end badly, that Kuroo would be just like-

“Hey! Been waiting long?” A familiar voice jogged up to him, slightly out of breath. He looked up from his self-deprecation to see Kuroo, dressed in some casual wear: a plain, black tee, and some form-fitting jeans. That was new. He suddenly realized that he’d been asked a question, sliding his phone into his pocket casually as if he hadn’t been so distracted seconds earlier.

“Not really,” he looked back at the man, allowing a slight tilt of his head. Kuroo took the hint to start walking, grinning widely as he began their leisurely walk to the coffee shop of his choice, hands slack in his pant pockets.

“This place has the best beans. Can’t even compare to the shit you get on campus,” he puffed proudly, speaking as if he were personally responsible for the superior quality of their coffee beans.

“Probably more expensive too,” Tsukishima retorted, raising his eyebrows in a show of disbelief as he stared at the other man.

“Well, yeah,” he laughed, turning around to walk backwards, facing the other student. “That’s why I only go on special occasions.” A part of him wanted to tell Kuroo that he was going to run into someone or something walking like that, and another part wanted to watch it happen, if only to mock him afterwards. The latter won.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Why making a new friend of course, Tsukki!” he put a hand dramatically to his chest, as if he were shocked at the implication that this wasn’t a special occasion. Which, in Tsukishima’s mind, it wasn’t. Who treated getting coffee with some guy you saw a few times at the library like a special occasion? They’d only known each other for maybe a week or two tops, and that was definitely not enough for them to be referred to as anything more than perhaps close acquaintances at _most_.

“Well, I suppose I should be honoured,” he mused, watching some people approaching from the other side of the sidewalk giving them a wide berth to avoid running into Kuroo. A shame. It would have been funny to see him running into them and apologizing profusely for their forgiveness.

“You should be! It’s not easy to become friends with me, you know.” The wild-haired man quipped, finally turning back around and sparing the oncoming pedestrians from having to step onto the grass to avoid his wide gait.

“You mean you don’t ask every guy in the library to be your friend?” Tsukishima raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, gaze sliding to the way Kuroo’s shoulders bunched as he walked.

“Only the cute ones,” Kuroo turned around to wink at him, and this time, he DID run into something – a whole ass light post. In fact, he somehow managed to smack straight into it just like they do in those old cartoons, flinching back with a pained yelp and grabbing at his nose.

This was more than he could take. He couldn’t believe Kuroo had _actually_ run into a fucking light post. He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach, tears gathering in his eyes.

“I-I can’t believe that just- holy shit you smacked right into that-!” Tsukishima gasped for breath, unable to stop his laughter from spilling out at the absurdity of the situation.

Next to him, Kuroo was beaming at him like a weirdo, despite the trickle of blood slowly dripping from his nose. They had both stopped walking now, and stood next to the sidewalk, on a patch of grass.

After Tsukishima finally managed to calm himself and wipe away the tears gathered from his laughing fit, he took in the way Kuroo was looking at him and pushed the rest of his giggles away.

“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, an amused smile stretched across his lips.

“Well uh, I haven’t really seen you smile or laugh before. It’s really adorable,” Kuroo confessed, sounding somewhat embarrassed as he grinned at him. Tsukishima quickly regained his senses, feeling his cheeks flush at his words.

“I guess running into a post is one way to make an impression on a first date,” he mused, resuming his pace, quickly shoving his hands back into his coat pockets. Kuroo hurried after him, seemingly only just now noticing that blood was still coming out of his nose.

“What was that?” he half-shouted as he caught up to Tsukishima, pulling some random tissues out of his bag and furiously dabbing at his nose.

“Just that it takes some serious skill to run into a post with your face,” the blonde-haired student quipped, snickering at the frustrated groan coming from the other man’s futile attempts to stop his nosebleed.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 


	4. “It’s just pictures of his cat.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hmm, I admit that your tastes are acceptable,” Tsukishima acquiesced, wiping his hands off on some napkins.  
> “Only acceptable?”  
> “…Maybe a bit above acceptable.”  
> “You’ll accept my prowess eventually, Tsukki.”  
> “I highly doubt that.”

After the eventful walk to the coffee shop, Tsukishima was able to relax, and visibly so. He wasn’t sure if it was the absurdity of seeing someone actually running into a giant ass lamp post, or Kuroo’s general demeanor that made him easy to talk to, but he no longer felt as guarded around the man as he had when they first met. A few minutes of laughing at his expense later, they reached their destination. Kuroo hurried off to the bathroom with a quick apology and something about cleaning up his nosebleed, leaving Tsukishima to find a seat for them.

He decided on one of the more secluded areas in the back, where it was quieter, with less people shuffling about.

Just as he had settled himself onto one of the couch styled seats adorning the back walls, a waiter arrived to ask for his order. Thankfully, Kuroo chose that same moment to slide into an unclaimed seat at the table, because Tsukishima did not think he knew the latter well enough to be ordering for him just yet.

“Caramel latte for me, and same for him, with two extra sugars,” Kuroo replied easily to the waiter once he’d been asked the same question, to Tsukishima’s surprise. How did the librarian know about his sweet tooth?

As if seeing the confusion in his gaze, Kuroo chuckled, settling in across from him.

“Ah, how do I know your coffee order? That’s a secret,” he winked, then grinned sheepishly when the student merely stared at him, looking unimpressed. “…Actually, I ran into your friend with the freckles, and he told me.” …Damn it Yamaguchi. He sure moved fast. He would have to get him for this later.

“Hmm.” Tsukishima hummed thoughtfully, mind wandering to plans of revenge for his dear friend. Kuroo observed him quietly for a brief moment, then spoke up again.

“So, what’re you at school for? I saw you with a chemistry textbook – is that what you’re taking?”

“Ah, no. That’s just an elective,” he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I’m in the math faculty, actually. Mathematical economics degree.”

Kuroo whistled, grinning widely.

“Damn, isn’t that like super difficult?” Tsukishima made a noncommittal noise.

“The calculus can get complicated, but it could be worse.”

“You’re being modest, Tsukki,” Kuroo laughed softly. Huh. When had he stopped correcting him for using that nickname? “I’m studying modern lit, so no complicated math for me, just a lot of reading about a lot of racist old men.”

“Sounds fun.” Tsukishima raised his eyebrows, looking at him with amusement in his eyes.

“Ya, it’s the beeessttt,” the other student drawled, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. “Really what I-“

He stopped midsentence when the waiter returned, abandoning his train of thought in favor of thanking him.

“This is one of my favorite places for coffee – their beans are just the best,” Kuroo sighed wistfully once the waiter had left, and brought his cup up to his nose, letting the fragrant scent of fresh latte take over his senses. “The shit on campus can’t even come close.”

Tsukishima looked down at his cup, gently swirling the liquid around. He wasn’t exactly a connoisseur of coffee, but the smell coming from the cup was certainly welcoming. He took a small sip and let the liquid sit briefly on his tongue.

“…Hmm. Not bad,” he mumbled quietly, taking another sip. Kuroo had been watching his interaction with the drink closely, and puffed out his chest proudly at the comment; it was almost as if he’d been the one to grow the beans himself. “I don’t think I’d make the ten minute walk every time I want coffee though.”

“It _is_ a bit of a walk. But if it were with you, I wouldn’t mind,” Kuroo grinned, making Tsukishima sputter just as he was about to take another sip.

“I-I guess if you made a habit of running into things on the way, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

He ignored the indignant noise produced by the librarian, hiding his face behind his cup. He hoped Kuroo couldn’t tell how affected he’d been by the comment, if the heat in his cheeks were any indication. (Unfortunately for him, Kuroo most definitely could.)

* * *

They started texting quite a bit after that – maybe even a bit too much. He didn’t even text Yamaguchi this much on a good day.

Most of their texts were comprised of Kuroo sending him pictures of new books they had just stocked, and of course, of Shiro. His kitten really was a mischievous one – there was one picture of her getting into a pile of Kuroo’s clean, folded laundry, and another of the aftermath. His clothes had been strewn all over room, the cabinets, and there was even a sock somehow stuck to a ceiling fan. How a tiny kitten had managed that was beyond him. It was as if a kid had thrown a temper tantrum and decided _fuck that pile of laundry in particular._

They would talk about classes too. Tsukishima complained about the professors with a penchant for vague explanations, others giving too many assignments with unclear answers, and the TAs that seemed to know less than he did. Kuroo would share excerpts from some of the journals he was studying for his own thesis – some that would make Tsukishima laugh out loud with how preposterous their claims were. Although they didn’t share many subjects in common, all students in college had certain things they could all relate to, and he was certainly no exception.

He wasn’t sure when he had gained a study buddy, but given how rarely Yamaguchi actually worked on his assignments before the day they were due, the new presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome (not that he would tell that to Kuroo).

It was Thursday afternoon, and both men were in the library at Tsukishima’s usual desk. However, this time, not one, but both had books open, notes scattered about, and they were equally focused on attempting to solve some difficult problems on their assignments.

“It’s like they forgot to add the assumptions to the question,” the taller student complained, frowning at the question on his paper. “I don’t know how they expect us to answer these. Like, do I just assume what we can use? Do I have to just randomly choose we can assume and what we can’t? Is it too simple to use the theory we just learned?” he groaned, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I never liked linear algebra,” he sighed heavily, tapping his pencil with more strength than necessary.

Kuroo looked at him sympathetically, not faring much better. He was working on an essay for one of his classes, and the internet was proving rather lacking in scholarly articles about how the change in the national political landscape had affected video games in the last five years.

“I regret choosing this class as an elective man,” the assistant librarian sighed, plopping his chin on his arms, slumped against the desk. “It was supposed to be easy, but the prof’s such a tough grader. It’s almost impossible to get a high grade in his class. You have to be like, God, or something.” He huffed out a heavy groan, scrolling mindlessly through pages on Google.

Tsukishima stared at his paper for another minute, then decided he had had enough.

“That’s it, I can’t do this right now. It’s not even due tomorrow,” he pushed the sheets away, mentally shoving this problem away for later. A fresh look at it some other time would probably be better than spending hours mulling over how the fuck to approach the problem. Kuroo perked up at that – his essay wasn’t due until the following week, so the break was definitely welcome.

“You hungry?” The other student asked, closing his laptop screen. “I know the best place.”

“Isn’t that what you said about the coffee shop?” Tsukishima replied doubtfully, going through the process of packing up his own things as well.

“I was right though, wasn’t I?” (Maybe so, but he wasn’t going to admit that.)

They ended up at a small diner a few minutes’ walk from campus not too long later. Tsukishima had ordered some chicken strips and fries, and Kuroo had gotten himself a burger set.

As Kuroo had promised, the food really _was_ delicious. Tsukishima swallowed his last fry with a satisfied smack of his lips, topping it off with a sip of strawberry milkshake.

“What did I tell you?” Kuroo said smugly, having finished his burger already a few minutes ago.

“Hmm, I admit that your tastes are acceptable,” Tsukishima acquiesced, wiping his hands off on some napkins.

“Only acceptable?”

“…Maybe a bit above acceptable.”

“You’ll accept my prowess eventually, Tsukki.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I’ll make you eat your words next time,” Kuroo leaned forward in his seat, smirking confidently at the challenge.

A sharp retort ready on his tongue, Tsukishima had been prepared to deny the concept of ‘next time’ Kuroo had proposed, but upon further reflection, even he realized that there would be no point in doing so.

“…Tch.”

* * *

Yamaguchi had _many_ words for him the next time they met up to go to his place to study. They hadn’t seen each other in a couple of weeks, what with October testing season, and his friend was about to blow his top. Tsukishima had texted him briefly, of course, but he hated having long conversations over text, and so had left a lot of things unsaid in his messages. If Yamaguchi had been an NPC in some RPG game, Tsukishima was sure that he would have had a giant exclamation mark above his head, persistently going _ding!_ , incessantly pinging him for his attention.

“You have **_GOT_** to catch me up! I can’t believe you guys have been _texting_ Tsukki, are you guys going out??? Did you **_kiss_**?” Yamaguchi was practically squealing at him on the way up to his apartment. Tsukishima ducked away from the twenty questions, skirting around him to head reach the apartment first.

“Stop bolding your speech, it’s freaking me out. Have you been hanging out with Hinata?”

“Then you shouldn’t have kept me waiting for **weeks** , Tsukki! And maybe, but don’t change the subject.” Yamaguchi quipped, swiftly unlocking the front door. “You can’t just not tell me things and expect me _not_ to ask you about it!”

Tsukishima sighed, both exasperated and grateful (but mostly exasperated) for his friend’s obsession with his love life.

“We aren’t going out, we didn’t kiss, and there’s nothing special about our texting. It’s mostly just pictures of his cat.”

Yamaguchi squinted at him, not entirely believing his words.

“…We may also go out for food now and then,” he shrugged, looking off to the side, avoiding meeting his searching gaze. “It’s not a big deal though, it’s just food.”

“…”

“…And we may study together sometimes. But only because he wouldn’t stop bothering me until I said yes.”

Yamaguchi hummed thoughtfully. He didn’t seem appeased.

“So…he’s a friend?”

“…I guess you could call it that.”

“I can’t believe you actually made another friend, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi grinned widely, pulling him into a tight hug. The blonde student groaned, leaning away from him.

“I don’t make friends because I choose not to, not because I can’t,” he complained, doing his best to shove his friend away from him, unfortunately, to no avail.

Yamaguchi defied his very best efforts to peel him off with the strength of a thousand suns, only letting go once he was deemed satisfied with the level of physical affection he had bestowed upon his friend.

“Hmmm, we should hang out. We should have lunch. Let’s all go out for lunch,” he exclaimed resolutely, pulling out his phone.

Tsukishima stared at him, looking horrified.

“No, we are not doing this.”

“Oh yes, we are.”

The soft beep of a text notification reverberated from his pocket. Squinting at Yamaguchi, he slowly pulled out the device, turning on the screen with a soft click.

_A group chat has been created._

**[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (4:22)** heyyy Kuroo!

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (4:22)** this is yamaguchi – tsukkis friend!

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (4:22)** u have time tmrw? we shuld go out for drinks!!

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (4:22)** tsukki’s coming ofc

Tsukishima stared at the mortifying situation unfolding in front of his eyes, quickly typing out his own message.

 **[Tsukishima Kei] (4:23)** No, I’m not. You can’t just volunteer me.

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (4:23)** do u rlly want us to talk without u there?

He squinted at the devilish smirk on his friend’s face. Damn it. He wasn’t particularly keen on going, but somehow, leaving Yamaguchi to his own devices seemed like an infinitely worse option.

 **[Tsukishima Kei] (4:23)** …

 **[Tsukishima Kei] (4:23)** I guess I can spare the time.

He almost dropped his phone when another message appeared immediately following his own.

 **[Typhoon Hair (Kuroo)] (4:23)** I would LOVE to!!

 **[Typhoon Hair (Kuroo)] (4:24)** where we going?? I know the BEST place.

(Of course he did.)

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (4:24)** text the deets! 8pm?

 **[Typhoon Hair (Kuroo)] (4:24)** 8 is perfect

He sighed to himself, squinting as hard as humanely possible at his friend. How did he always manage to drag him around like this?

“It’ll be fun!” Yamaguchi cackled, falling backwards onto his mattress. Tsukishima groaned in resignation (again), setting his backpack down next to the bed. Well, it was just drinks. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week another chapter! What trouble are our boys going to get into...? As always, your comments and likes feed my muse~


	5. That Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a few things you should know about Yamaguchi.
> 
> One, Yamaguchi was his best friend (although that status may change depending on what happened that evening).
> 
> Two, Yamaguchi was privy to most of his secrets.
> 
> Three, Yamaguchi was very chatty when drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of past abuse/panic attack
> 
> Throwing up is mentioned, though not in detail. ***'s will indicate the panic attack if you want to skip that section~

8pm.

Tsukishima had spent the better part of the day worrying about what exactly would happen when the forces of Yamaguchi and Kuroo collided in a windstorm of alcohol. Sure, Yamaguchi would probably, at the very least, be considerate enough not to say anything outright. But did that mean he wouldn’t reveal any embarrassing secret Tsukishima had buried so deep within the recesses of his mind that not even _he_ remembered them?

Absolutely not.

Besides, there are a few things you should know about Yamaguchi.

One, Yamaguchi was his best friend (although that status may change depending on what happened that evening).

Two, Yamaguchi was privy to most of his secrets.

Three, Yamaguchi was very chatty when drunk.

All of that amounted to a potentially disastrous situation for Tsukishima. He’d already gone through two cigarettes (in spite of the disapproving looks from Yamaguchi for smoking in his apartment, and, well, smoking in general – _you’re not my mother Yamaguchi_ ), and he was about to start on his third. However, the effect of the nicotine seemed duller than usual; his lips were turning red from his incessant gnawing, trying not to think about how everything was going to go wrong. (At least Yamaguchi was kind enough not to point out the simple arithmetic mistakes he was making in his state during their morning study session.) 

And eventually, 8pm came.

As promised, Kuroo had sent them the location to a small bar somewhere in downtown, tucked away from most foot traffic and passersby. It was a quaint little place that actually looked pretty decent from the outside; some homey decorative plants lined the entrance and hung from a warm canopy, along with a chalkboard with the daily special doodled on by their artsiest employee. It felt more like the setting for a café than a bar from the outside, and for a brief moment, Tsukishima found himself thankful for Kuroo’s begrudgingly excellent taste in restaurants and bars alike.

Tsukishima had come together with Yamaguchi straight from the other student’s place, and they were only about five minutes early – quite a feat when Tsukishima had been nervously pacing around the door almost the entire hour leading up to their scheduled departure time. ( _I’m just afraid of the shitshow that will be you, Kuroo, and alcohol, Yamaguchi – no other reason.)_

Yamaguchi led the way inside, with Tsukishima following close behind him. The interior matched the exterior – warm, homey decoration that wasn’t too tacky, more focused on coziness than efficiency. There was your standard counter up near the front, but most of the space in the dimly lit bar held circular tables tucked into sectioned out areas, with wooden panels high enough to contain most acceptable levels of conversational chatter.

He scanned the room quickly – it was easy to spot the insanely messy bedhead near the back. Kuroo had started waving enthusiastically soon after they entered, and Tsukishima gave a small, awkward wave back. After a brief check in with a waiter confirming that they were going to be joining Kuroo’s table, they made their way over.

“Heyy guys, you’re early!”

“You’re pretty early too,” Tsukishima remarked with what he hoped was much more composure than he felt he had, pulling up a seat. The whole cozy nature of the round tables more or less forced them all to be somewhat facing each other. He wasn’t sure if he was glad that he wouldn’t be directly facing Kuroo, or concerned that this meant they were technically sitting closer to one another.

“Ah, well, didn’t want to be late when I’m the one that suggested this place, just in case you got lost,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyways, I’ll get us started. What do you guys want?”

“Hmm I’ll have whatever they have on tap~”

“I’ll have a coconut rum.”

Kuroo flagged down a waiter and ordered all of their drinks – along with some whiskey for himself.

“So-” He turned back around abruptly, smiling brightly at both of them. “Yamaguchi, huh? We met briefly, but we never really talked – I mean, beyond that conspicuous note you passed me in the library,” he laughed, leaning back in his seat.

Yamaguchi cackled.

…

Tsukishima could only imagine what exactly the situation had been between the two of them.

Kuroo, calmly putting away returned books. Yamaguchi suddenly appearing from seemingly nowhere, sunglasses on, note in hand. Casually walking by Kuroo, dropping the note atop his stack of remaining books, whispering in his ear: “ _You’re gonna want to read that,_ ” before disappearing just as mysteriously between some bookshelves.

…

Well, it probably hadn’t gone _quite_ like that, but Tsukishima did think of Yamaguchi as entirely capable of acting just as extravagantly theatrical.

While he was busy hiding his amused smirk from the absurd scenario, Yamaguchi had been properly introducing himself, and he willed himself to pay attention to the conversation.

“-Yes, I’m a third year like Tsukki – studying finance,” he returned his grin equally as brightly, leaning forward eagerly with both arms on the table. “As for the note… I wanted to help out is all – and it worked out, didn’t it?”

He shot Tsukishima a smirk with a mischievous glint in his eyes, which Tsukishima returned with as much irritation he could muster in the single, split second glance.

“Hmm,” he hummed noncommittally, avoiding looking Kuroo in the eye lest he notice his embarrassment. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to go quite as planned, as the librarian was laughing knowingly at his reply.

Thankfully, their drinks arrived just then, before Yamaguchi could embarrass him any further down this line of questioning.

“So do you ever help Tsukki with his language assignments, since you’re a literature _master_ and all?”

Kuroo laughed, waving a no. “It _is_ called a master’s in literature, but I wouldn’t exactly call myself a literature master… and anyways, I thought Tsukki was in math – he never told me he was even taking any language courses!” He turned his eyes to Tsukishima, looking like a kicked puppy.

Tsukishima cleared his throat, taking a composed (well, he thought it looked composed) sip of his drink.

“I do have one… it’s just some first year electives I’ve been putting off until now.”

“Aww, Tsukki, you should have told me!” (Something about the way that cursed nickname slid off Kuroo’s tongue sent funny feelings creeping up his spine in a way it never did with Yamaguchi. He would analyze the reason for that later.) “I would have been able to help! You know, I may not look like it, but I _did_ graduate at the top of my year. I’m pretty confident in my writing skills!” Kuroo pat his chest proudly with his fist, looking quite comedic in his attempt to show his reliability whilst simultaneously holding a glass of whiskey in the other hand.

Tsukishima stared pointedly at his drink, looking contemplative. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t be bad to bounce ideas off someone from time to time,” he admitted, swirling his drink around in its glass. He took another sizeable swig, enjoying the warmth settling in his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yamaguchi eyeing him with – was that worry? Why was he worried about him? He would be fine. It wasn’t as if Tsukishima never drank (he’d been great friends with the beer in his fridge lately), although he supposed it had been a while since he’d had any type of liquor.

Their conversation swung from topic to the next, mostly centered around your typical college student woes. To his surprise, most of the conversations didn’t actually seem to involve _him_. Maybe Yamaguchi was just warming them up (or maybe he was just waiting for Tsukishima to be too out of it to stop him from telling any embarrassing ones about him. Probably the latter.)

They (mostly Yamaguchi and Kuroo) chatted about classes they’d taken and the exceptionally hard markers in some of them, about their hatred of certain profs whose aloofness and poor teaching skills truly made one wonder how they had held tenure for so long, about the decent places to eat on campus with food that did not hold the quality of fine sludge, and Yamaguchi was even able to bond with Kuroo over a new book series coming out soon (it was truly sheer luck that Kuroo happened to be into the one series Yamaguchi actually followed).

Before they knew it, they were on their third (? fourth? fifth? Tsukishima had lost count) round of drinks, and he was certainly feeling much less nervous about the whole ordeal. In fact, he had actually relaxed enough to sport a soft smile, snorting at Yamaguchi’s recounting of a story of one of their professors.

“So he comes in right, starts chatting about his visit to the doctor’s. Tall dude, and you know very well, height equals back pain,” Yamaguchi snickered at the groans coming from both of them.

“Anyways, he goes on: ‘So my doctor mentioned how bending over to write on the blackboard like this was pretty bad for my back. He suggested I do THIS’ – and the guy fucking does a LUNGE facing the blackboard,” he slaps his knee, laughing as he recounts the image, “then gets back up, and finishes with ‘I told him I’d rather take the back pain.’ I don’t think I will ever forget seeing a six foot four man suddenly stepping into a forward lunge. The _echo_ of his shoe hitting the fucking floor – I mean he was still wearing like a dress shirt and nice shoes and all that.” Tsukishima snickered to himself as he recounted the memory – it had been one of the few profs he’d liked. Across the table, Kuroo was grinning as well – although it seemed to be directed at something other than the story.

“Man, I miss having him as a prof. He even showed us pictures of his new kitten,” Yamaguchi sighed wistfully, looking down his drink. “So cute. So small. So blessed.”

“Oh, speaking of kitten – have you seen Shiro?” Kuroo interjected, leaning closer.

Yamaguchi suddenly gasped, making Tsukishima jump with the strength at which he suddenly slammed his hands down on their table.

“I have _NOT!_ Tsukki’s been holding the pictures hostage from me.” Kuroo gasped indignantly, looking at Tsukishima with the most exaggerated hurt expression he could muster.

“I wasn’t, I was- I mean maybe I was, I just didn’t want you to see what I send him- I mean, uh.” Tsukishima stuttered to a stop, blinking at himself in surprise. Wow, he must really have had a lot to drink. Yamaguchi was looking at him with owl eyes now, clearly curious as to why Tsukishima didn’t want him to see those messages. Thankfully, Kuroo had been preoccupied with trying to find his phone in the pockets of his coat and so hadn’t heard him (two pockets suddenly felt like twelve when your vision wasn’t doing too hot, Tsukishima knew), and interrupted them with a shout of triumph, phone finally in hand.

“Let me introduce you to a true demon.”

He scooted closer to Yamaguchi to show him the pictures, leaving Tsukishima to down the rest of his drink in embarrassment.

* * *

That was the last thing he remembered of that night.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in bed, with a massive, pounding headache.

Right.

He didn’t handle liquor well.

Maybe that was why Yamaguchi had looked at him with such worried eyes – but could he blame him for wanting to let go a little?

Fuck, his head was _pounding_. Now was not the time to be analyzing Yamaguchi’s actions from the previous night.

Letting out a groan, he reached around blindly to his left, patting around his bedside table for his glasses – only to be met with…not his bedside table?

He stayed still for a moment in an attempt to calm his headache through the sheer strength of his will. It didn’t work perfectly, as such attempts often did not, but it was enough to allow him to slowly open his eyes.

He may have shit vision without his glasses on, but this was definitely not his room.

He did spot said glasses on _a_ table – to his right, not to his left – and moved quickly to grab them. _Ugh, too fast._

After giving himself enough time sit up without dying, he shoved them onto his face, ignoring the fingerprint smudges on the lens (as irritating as those were, he did not have the mental capacity to deal with them right then.)

Where the hell was this?

In between trying to hold back the rising urge to vomit and the growing panic in his chest from finding himself in some stranger’s room, a familiar figure suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“K-Kuroo?” He croaked, wincing as the attempt to speak suddenly made the need to throw up _much worse._

“Hey, you’re finally awake,” he thanked the gods Kuroo kept his voice at a reasonable volume for a very, very hungover man, but was he dreaming, or did he only have boxer briefs and some kind of apron on? “Did you sleep well?”

“What the fuc-” He was barely able to get the words out before bile was suddenly rising in his throat, and he threw himself out of bed and stumbled past Kuroo, down the hall. He was grateful for the ‘to your right!’ half-shouted from behind him, but he wasn’t able to linger on the feeling for long as he urged his body to the toilet bowl, where he was finally able to empty his stomach. Given that it was mostly bile, he probably hadn’t eaten anything in between the drinks last night. _Tsk, amateur move, Kei._

Feeling marginally better now, he felt the soft tap of a toilet paper roll against his shoulder. He took it gratefully, cleaning off his face and the edges of the bowl.

“Uhh, thanks.” He took the water bottle that came after as well, downing half of it as the headache made its comeback.

“I made breakfast too, if you’re up for it. Might make you feel better. Just some scrambled eggs,” Kuroo laughed softly, waving around what Tsukishima could now make out as a spatula.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at Kuroo dumbly without saying anything, but thankfully, the man didn’t wait around for him to give an answer. He probably went to go finish up the eggs.

Tsukishima took the chance to wash his face, looking at himself in the mirror properly for the first time.

Well first of all, he looked absolutely dead, but that was to be expected. What was more concerning was his clothing – or more accurately, what was most definitely not _his_ clothing.

He was still wearing his underwear, but the shirt hanging off his shoulders most definitely wasn’t his own. If he had to guess, it was probably Kuroo’s, given how loosely it fell off his thinner frame. And to top it all off, he wasn’t wearing any pants.

What on earth had happened last night? He must have had way too much to drink – well, that much was clear from the hangover headache, but he couldn’t remember much beyond dizzying flashes. Did he and Kuroo…

 _Fuck_.

He swallowed more bile rising from his throat this time, for a different reason. There was no way they would have, right? They’d just met like a month ago, and even if the whole apron and underwear thing were an absolute cliché of ‘you slept over and now I’m gonna make you breakfast’, that was probably just Kuroo’s quirky personality at play, right? Not because they’d actually…slept together?

*******

He rubbed the palm of his hand against his forehead, willing himself to remember, but it just made his head pound harder against his skull. He slid against the bathroom wall to the floor, hugging his knees on the cool tile floor.

It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like Kuroo (after all, he did find him insanely attractive), but he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for another relationship after his last one, even if it’d been months, and he was definitely not ready for something happening _that he couldn’t even remember,_ and _fuck,_ his chest hurt, and he couldn’t _breathe_.

He rolled onto the floor and curled inward, gasping for air as tears welled in his eyes, his entire body _shaking_ as his mind seized his senses, refusing to process what could possibly have happened last night.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew that Kuroo wouldn’t, that Kuroo was different, that he couldn’t possibly have, but it wasn’t enough when all he could remember were _those fucking hands holding his wrists_ –

He desperately clawed at his shirt, squeezing his eyes shut as he willed his brain to stop screaming at him, to stop spouting every single hypothetical event that could have occurred without allowing him to process a single one and the reasons why none of those would be true, _but –_

Just then, the man of the hour reappeared in the doorway. Tsukishima could barely hear him over the sound of blood roaring in his ears, but through the thick fog enveloping his mind, he was barely aware of the man sitting on the floor next to him, asking what he assumed to be a question.

He dug his nails into his palm, willing himself to stop hyperventilating.

Kuroo wasn’t like that. Kuroo was a good guy. He was the dorky guy he'd just met in the library with a stupid haircut with an adorably demonic kitten that destroyed everything in its path, the guy that knew the _best_ places to eat at, the guy that —

“-can do – … – keep breat-”

He knew he had to slow his breathing down, he knew all the steps to go through when this happened, he knew, he knew, but-

Did he really know _him_?

It'd only been a month since they'd met and sure, maybe he'd only acted kind and caring and just a _little_ annoying and obnoxious so far, and it really should be enough for him not to assume the worst, but, _but_ —

"—can I get you a—"

But what _if_ he had been that guy? What if he thought it was _okay_ because maybe Tsukishima had said something while drunk and not really thinking that made him _think_ it was okay, or maybe he was so drunk himself that he didn't think that far, and that was a reasonable reason to have, right? Even though he hadn't said anything so far to indicate one way or the other —

Why hadn't he said anything so far? Was it because he didn't have anything to hide, or because he assumed Tsukishima remembered, or because he just didn't have time to say anything with Tsukishima running straight to the bathroom, or —

Or was it because it really did happen and he didn't think it was a big deal?

"Tsukki?"

The worry in his tone cut through his spiraling thoughts for a moment, but he couldn't get any words out. He pressed trembling hands to his chest, wanting to scream in frustration. 

This guy _cared,_ this guy wouldn't do that, this guy was a gentleman who probably just let him crash for the night because he was also drunk and maybe didn't have the energy to ask drunk Tsukishima where he lived or where his keys were, because he was that kind of guy, he wasn't _that_ kind of guy, he was —

 _What if he_ was _that kind of guy?_

But he wasn't, he couldn't be, that wasn't how —

 _What if he turns out just like_ him _?_

He wouldn't, he couldn't, _he_ had never acted so nice, he —

_What if you're the one that asked for it?_

His blood suddenly ran cold at the suggestion provided by his addled mind, because _that's right,_ _he asked for it, it was his fault, he —_

"-ep breaths, Tsukki." 

And the cycle continued. 

*******

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, but when eventually, the overwhelming feeling faded into faint prickles at his fingertips, he allowed himself to open his eyes once more. He was absolutely exhausted, and even the effort of forcing his eyelids open was draining. 

Kuroo was still sitting there.

Unfortunately, that didn’t bring him as much comfort as he’d hoped.

“Hey, do you need anything? Can I get anything for you?” He spoked up softly, and although Tsukishima appreciated the effort, he couldn’t handle this right now.

“I-I’m sorry, I need to go,” he coughed out, sounding much meeker than he’d have liked for it to.

He cleared his throat before trying again. “Where are my clothes?”

“Oh I washed them – they’re on the couch now. You threw up last night a-” Tsukishima didn’t stick around to hear the rest of his sentence. He pushed himself up to unsteady feet and walked past him, heading straight to the living room. Within a few seconds, he had his own clothes on again, very much ready to go home. He mumbled a quiet thanks in Kuroo’s direction when he popped out of the bathroom to check on him, not giving him a chance to reply before he hurried out, almost stumbling on the threshold.

He hurried down the stairs of the apartment building (as fast as one could when they were fighting a hangover and the residual effects of a panic attack), shoving his hands into his pockets instinctively – thankful when he felt his phone in one of them. He pulled it out once he was out of the building, turning it on to find a few messages from Yamaguchi.

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (11:01)** Heyyy did you get home ok?

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (11:01)** so lucky you could share cab fares with kuroo - apparently u two live p close

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (11:01)** meanwhile I live in like the opposite direction

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi**[🍠](https://emojipedia.org/roasted-sweet-potato/) **] (11:02)** text me when u wake up! dont call lol my head cant handle it

He was not okay. He did not get home okay. He didn’t know why he was in Kuroo’s house, and he couldn’t remember what had happened last night. He couldn’t even go home _now_ because he didn’t know where his keys were.

Well, that last part was more immediately problematic than the rest – where were his keys?

He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Kuroo again right then, so if he’d left them there, he was definitely not going to get them right now.

The only thing he could think to do was take a cab to Yamaguchi’s place and crash there until he was feeling more human and able to handle the windstorm he’d been swept into.

 **[Tsukishima Kei] (11:20)** I’m coming over in 20

 **[Tsukishima Kei] (11:20)** leave ur door open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the panic attack section, it's basically Tsukki remembering his last relationship and trying not to associate it with Kuroo (keyword: trying).
> 
> Finally got to bring some angst back into this *cackles* Anyways, hope you guys are liking this story so far! Will do my best to keep up the updates every Saturday~


	6. Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bagel intruded upon his thoughts.

Tsukishima had never seen a man recover from a hangover with sheer willpower, but in this moment, he certainly appreciated the superhuman feat Yamaguchi had managed to pull off.

He was curled up on Yamaguchi's bed now in a big fleecy blanket, feeling somewhat better after a cold shower, a couple of cigarettes, and a /lot/ of fries from McDonald's. Sue him for preferring them over their actual meals.

His friend was sat across from him on his bed, eyeing him with barely concealed concern. He had helped himself to a burger he’d sneaked in alongside Tsukishima’s ten pounds of fries, and the empty remains of packaging now lay haphazardly discarded around them.

Yamaguchi had been very surprised when Tsukishima showed up at his door not long after receiving his rather concerning texts, but one look at him had told him everything he needed to know in that moment, and he had quickly ushered his friend in without another word.

Now that Tsukishima seemed to have relaxed, he spoke up hesitantly. He had some idea of what might have happened, but he’d rather get the truth from Tsukishima’s mouth than begin guessing at what had led to this situation.

“Are… Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Tsukishima curled up tighter, staring at his knees pointedly.

“Well I don’t think… anything actually happened– I mean I’m really not sure, I can’t remember shit,” he sighed, running long fingers through his hair. There were still a lot of blanks in his memory. “I don’t _think_ anything happened though, I just– I started thinking about it and I _panicked_ because I remembered _him_ – I had a fucking panic attack in the middle of his apartment and I couldn– ”

Yamaguchi was at his side all of a sudden, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else.” Tsukishima immediately relaxed in his arms and sighed, allowing the rapidly avalanching thoughts to dissipate. “Fuck, I didn’t– I mean I really should have asked beforehand if you were planning to go straight back to your place and checked that you even had your keys,” Yamaguchi sighed, brows furrowed. Now it was Tsukishima’s turn to flick his forehead.

Yamaguchi yelped, aghast at the fact that he would be treated so harshly for showing concern for his dear friend. Tsukishima rolled his eyes, playfully pushing him away to get out of bed.

“You know don’t have to plan for everything, Yamaguchi. Sometimes we just, fuck up,” he picked up his glasses, cleaning off the lens gently with the bottom of his shirt. “We were both drunk as fuck.”

His friend watched him, pouting with his head tilted to the side.

“Mmm maybe, but for you to end up at his apartment of all places… I mean I know I tease you, but I didn’t want to push you that far. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready, you know? That’s okay.”

Tsukishima slid his glasses on, turning to see at Yamaguchi looking at him pensively.

“But I mean– I see the way you look at him. And I really don’t think he’s a bad guy.

“Maybe… it would help to talk to someone?” he continued softly, bringing up the suggestion again hesitantly. He had brought this up before, and of course, Tsukishima had immediately shut the conversation down. He really didn’t see the purpose nor use of talking to someone just to be asked “ _and how do you feel about that_ ” in response to anything he said. The void of his own apartment was just as good for that, and it was much less irritation inducing and judgmental than another human being.

However, he did feel… frustrated. That was a new feeling; it used to be apathy, what had changed?

…

Maybe he could reconsider.

“…Maybe.” He repeated out loud, picking up his phone. He had missed a couple of messages from Kuroo.

…

Maybe he _should_ reconsider.

He could feel that headache coming back.

Not particularly in the mood to think about this topic anymore, he set his phone down and turned back around to sit next to Yamaguchi. “Wasn’t there a new show you wanted to show me or something?”

“Oh yes – it just came out, we absolutely need to watch it,” Yamaguchi picked up quickly on Tsukishima’s desire to move on, making no further comments on the subject. He grinned as he moved over to make room, pulling his laptop out. “The main guy is– well you’ll see,” he cackled, pulling up Netflix.

They spent the rest of the afternoon bingeing the show, and Tsukishima pushed the entire matter to the back of his mind; he could deal with it later, when he had more brainpower to devote to the subject.

* * *

Tsukishima never ended up reading those texts. After deleting the notifications, he hadn’t gone back to look at the texts, too preoccupied with studying for his own exams coming up, and had inadvertently forgotten they were even there. Kuroo didn’t message him after that either – and with no new notifications, he’d forgotten about reading those texts, or replying to him at all.

Although he normally would have spent most of his waking hours within the quiet walls of the library, especially during exam season, he recently found himself going to Yamaguchi’s much more often. Turned that the other student was really struggling with a few of his classes (even moreso than he previously let on), and Tsukishima had always found it helpful for his own reviewing to explain the concepts to someone else anyway. Hence, many of his days had been spent at Yamaguchi’s, pouring over fast food and study notes until the early hours of the morning.

As a result of his new habits, he didn’t end up running into Kuroo again until the next Thursday.

He had just entered the library when he spotted the familiar head of wild hair near the entrance, putting away an armful of books back onto their shelf. He paused in his tracks, brain creaking to a halt.

He hadn’t replied to his messages. He hadn’t even _read_ his messages, and it’d almost been two weeks. He wasn’t entirely sure what Kuroo was thinking either – he hadn’t tried to message him again after the first day, after all.

Was he annoyed? Did he just not care? It was very possible he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore after the shitshow that went down at his apartment.

Whatever the case, there was no way meeting him _now_ wasn’t going to be awkward as hell, and– oh he just turned around.

While he was busy dying inside, Kuroo had finished putting away the books and now stood as stiff as a board, staring straight at him.

Tsukishima didn’t give him a chance to react. He immediately turned around and hurried out of the library, making a beeline for the cafeteria, face flushed red.

He shouldn’t have been in the library – it was a Thursday, and Tsukishima still remembered enough to know that he didn’t work on Thursdays. Well regardless, there was no use thinking about it now; the damage was already done – and he’d run away from him, _again._

It wasn’t as if he hated the guy; he wasn’t entirely sure _how_ he felt, but the storm of feelings brewing within him aside, he would rather disappear than relive the embarrassing scene Kuroo had witnessed at his apartment.

He knew he couldn’t avoid talking to him forever, but he would do his absolute best to put that moment off for as long as humanly possible.

Dismissing the encounter with a shake of his head, he pulled out his phone to send a text to Yamaguchi. His classes would be over soon, and Tsukishima definitely wouldn’t mind another group study session (Yamaguchi could really use them anyway). It would also be much less distracting than attempting to study at the library with Kuroo nearby.

(Unfortunately, it didn’t end up being a very productive study session.)

* * *

A bagel intruded upon his thoughts.

Yamaguchi had poked him with a piece of his lunch, snickering at the way he jumped in surprise.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?”

Tsukishima sighed. He and Yamaguchi had been having lunch on Friday as usual when he’d spotted a familiar face by the muffin stand, chatting up some chick.

Kuroo, the guy he hadn’t talked to in two weeks.

He’d been staring at him without saying anything for the last five minutes, and Yamaguchi had had just about enough.

“I can’t just talk to him, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima frowned, dragging his gaze off Kuroo for a moment to look back at his friend. “It’s been two whole _weeks_ since he messaged me. I ignored him for two whole weeks.”

Yamaguchi shrugged, chewing his bagel thoughtfully.

“You still don’t remember what happened, right? I mean, from what you told me, it _is_ kinda his fault for you misunderstanding the situation too.”

Tsukishima huffed grumpily.

He hadn’t been able to fill in most of the blanks missing from that night but looking back at the situation with a rational mind, he was fairly sure that indeed nothing had happened between them, even without confirmation from Kuroo. Unfortunately, there was still the other elephant in the room.

For someone to have seen him in such a state– even Yamaguchi wasn’t often privy to some of his worst moments. To have to face Kuroo after that…

He jabbed his fork into his parfait, violently piercing through a strawberry.

“Did you ever read those messages?” Yamaguchi suddenly asked, tilting his head to the side.

He… had not.

“All I’m saying is, you’ve been pretty distracted the last couple of weeks – don’t think I didn’t notice – so it’s clearly bothering you. I can tell he’s on your mind. You should at least talk to him – I don’t think he’s the kind of guy that would care about that stuff.”

“… Hmm.”

“And stop glaring daggers at that girl he’s talking to.”

Tsukishima sighed. Why was Yamaguchi always right?

He pulled out his phone, tapping on the messaging app, and hesitantly pulled up his conversation with Kuroo.

Just as he went to scroll through the messages, a reminder popped on his phone.

_Calculus in 5 minutes in Room 224 in West End Building._

Ah, he should head to class.

And if Yamaguchi gave him a disapproving look for putting off the problem that was Kuroo once more, then so be it.

* * *

The weekend came and went, and before he knew it, Monday had arrived.

Tsukishima was now standing in front of the library, staring at its glass doors. He could do this. Yamaguchi was going to kick him out of their studying sessions if he didn’t deal with _this_ , at this rate, or so he had said. His threat didn’t hold much water when he was the one asking Tsukishima for help, but even the blonde student was beginning to feel his carefully crafted walls of indifference crumbling recently. He was beginning to get annoyed at himself for even caring this much about the relationship between he and Kuroo, and he just wanted to get this over with so he could go back to studying peacefully in the library (that was the only reason, nothing more).

He took a deep breath, steeled himself for this dreaded interaction, and stepped inside.

As he walked in, he spotted the man he was looking for at the checkout counter, talking to some students there to check out books.

Unsure how else to proceed (he wasn’t going to go up and interrupt them after all), he decided to get in line behind the others, awkwardly pulling out his phone to look busy. He watched as Kuroo greeted each with a smile and waved them off with a “ _have a nice day_ ”, until it was his own turn at the counter.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from him, but the curious and somewhat annoyed look on Kuroo’s face wasn’t a surprising reaction, he supposed.

“Hey,” he greeted awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.

“…Hi.” Kuroo responded in kind, arms crossed as he stared at him with an unreadable expression, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“… Go out for coffee with me?” he blurted out suddenly, lifting his gaze to meet his eyes. Kuroo blinked at him in surprise – well, Tsukishima didn’t blame him; he wouldn’t have expected that from himself either.

“Hmm, if I recall, the last time I heard those words coming from one of us, he was not so graciously turned down,” Kuroo mused, tapping a finger on his chin.

Tsukishima groaned, cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. So maybe he deserved that – he had ignored him for two weeks, after all.

“Nevermind, I’ll come back la-”

“Of course I’ll go,” Kuroo interrupted with a laugh, shoulders relaxing a bit. “I get off at noon.”

Now it was Tsukishima’s turn to look surprised. He was expecting Kuroo to act more distant towards him, not to agree so quickly. Perhaps he had been feeling the same way as Tsukishima had, these last couple of weeks?

He composed himself with a quick nod, clearing his throat. It was both mortifying and a relief to have Kuroo talking to him seemingly the same way he had before _that_ whole thing had happened.

“Right, meet you outside the library like last time?”

“It’s a date~”

He didn’t even correct him this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like everything will be okay for our boys after all?
> 
> It'll most likely be two weeks until the next update; running a bit behind on studying that I need to catch up;; thanks for understanding!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note - currently taking a break to study for an exam, will resume updates some time in November!


End file.
